Downpour
by Raquelle
Summary: Touga trys to figure out where everything went wrong for him, and how the revolution would have been different had he finished with the ideals he began with.


Downpour   
  
by Raquelle  
  
Beads of rain flung themselves blindly at the windowpanes, a soft steady drum as they   
made contact and slid down in death. It was a pointless battle, to be a raindrop-carrying so   
much anger and determination and speed only to be absorbed by entities so much larger and so   
solid. Even their origins were sketchy. Condensation and precipitation and absorption, yes, this   
was all well and good when explained in a series of arrows on a colorful chart, but what of the   
raindrops themselves? When they were absorbed and brought back up to the sky to be reformed,   
were they the same raindrops as before, or had one been mixed with the other,   
no discretion or consideration for their personal feelings? Sent off to war with the life below   
by harsh gods, by clouds and monsters and bright orange arrows. Then there were the clouds   
themselves. Sometimes they were dragons and sometimes men with large noses, or a sailboat in a   
sea of sky, but if you ever got high up enough to sink down into them you would find that they   
were mere bits of fluff drifting through the air. Floating as aimlessly as the rain fell   
downward - this was the pattern of life, to be flung about without direction and with no will of   
one's own.   
  
How existentialist.   
  
Classes had given way to the relentless wet battle that took place outside the comfortable   
confines of my home, and I spent the morning idling by the window, imagining what I would say   
to Tenjou Utena the next time I might see her. Not that it made much difference, what I said to   
her. No matter how perfectly the words are formed in my head, how carefully calculated in their   
tone and timing, how pretty and eloquently spoken they were they would never, ever...well.   
  
curtain   
  
"fancy running into you here"(here being a reasonably secluded hallway). touga kiryuu is leaning  
against a windowsill, idly sensual, catching her just as she passes by. she pauses and turns as   
he looks up and into her eyes.   
  
"hello, mr. president." flustered, a little cold but still pleasant. with hesitation she meets   
his gaze.   
  
"no need to be so formal". he stands up and walks to her side, eyes still locked with hers. "we   
know each other quite well, do we not?"   
  
she backs away a bit and starts to turn her back towards him. he touches her shoulder ever so   
lightly. then she turns and looks into his gorgeous blue eyes, and he puts his arms around her   
and then...  
  
"i love you, touga. i've been denying it all this time, but i've loved you from the moment i   
first saw you. and now I see that you've shed yourself of all wrongdoing, that you are the   
epitome of chivalry and benevolence". (they embrace, kiss, and in general make use of the   
aforementioned secluded hallway).   
  
"oh, touga..."   
  
curtain   
  
I might not hear her voice many more times. Revolution was drawing nearer. It could be her   
victory, or his own, but in the end it would be his revolution.   
  
Him. Ohtori Akio, the Ends of the World, the once-prince. I could never grasp the concept of this   
revolution of person, when the prince died and the devil was born. Was it a slow evolution of   
spirit or a sudden conversion, good one minute and evil the next? He was evil, evil incarnate,   
everything despicable and twisted within the human soul. And that is why he was invincible-inside  
him everyone sees them self. He was what mankind might become had they no morals, no conscience,   
no boundaries. A reflection of the innermost depths of the human soul.   
  
Truth is power. Give in to it. And I did, flinging myself into the web of delusions and lies that  
held him together. Oh, we are all naught but deceit, naught but ugliness, and I have merely   
embraced that which lives inside me. When I realized the truth was the day I was born, the day I   
ceased to be flesh and assumed true form, a servant to the devil.   
  
When did my transformation occur? Boy to a young man, innocent to devious, good to evil. Memories  
of childhood are clouded, with only infinitesimal flashes of light. Telling Nanami stories when   
she couldn't sleep. Being served dinner by the maid while mother and father were away. The   
fittings for suits too decorative for a grown man and too fancy for a small boy. Then there are   
the painful memories, more vivid and real but also more confused, more scrambled, like a game   
show wheel, spinning colors that would never slow down, could never be halted and explained once   
they begin to play in my head. There was the first night, when my new father chased me through   
the fields and pinned me down on the grass. I can still remember the smile on his sweaty face,   
as he looked down at me, whimpering and helpless. Lying curled up in a ball on my new bed, not   
wanting to touch anything in that house. I remember mother's precious glass bowl, the one that   
had held the wax fruit that Nanami was always trying to eat. I remember seeing the shards of   
glass fly through the air like miniature birds, the blood on my mother's face as they flung   
themselves at her in retaliation, her arm still raised. I remember the fight that had followed,   
sitting at the top of the staircase, Nanami asking where the fruit had gone.   
  
curtain   
  
kiryuu touga is lying stretched out on his bed, at home, in the dark. the light suddenly   
turns on.   
  
"go away, nanami". he does not turn around.   
  
"it isn't nanami" a voice responds, and into view comes tenjou utena, looking concerned. "are you  
okay?"   
  
"quite fine, thank you" is the curt reply, but with her amazing capacity for empathy, utena   
realizes that this is not the truth.   
  
"touga." there is a long silence, as she fidgets uncomfortably. finally, she opens her mouth to   
speak, but he silences her with a wave of his hand.   
  
"no need to explain," he says bitterly. "i understand that you will never forgive me for what   
i've done". (the audience, who ponders why utena, so tolerant of most, will not forgive this   
poor, remorseful young man, notes use of the word "will" and not "can")  
  
tears begin to roll down utena's cheeks. "I've tried so hard, touga, I really have..." she trails  
off as he turns to her, and she sees the pain and regret in his eyes. "it's just that i'm so   
scared...I don't know what will happen next, or if i can trust you..."   
  
suddenly he is in front of her, clasping her hands in his. "you can trust me, utena. i love you."   
  
"oh, touga..."   
  
curtain   
  
If I had to pinpoint a date, an exact moment to mark my own personal revolution from a regular   
kid into whatever I've become, it would be the day Saionjii beat me in a match. It was something   
we did often, for fun, but lately the amusement had been replaced by intense competition.   
Defeating Saionjii was easy for me, a game, but he always took it more seriously than I did. He   
didn't understand that he could never beat me. When sparring, something comes over me, and   
suddenly I am the most powerful person in the universe. I could have defeated a million   
Saionjiis, all at once, rising up into the air and knocking them down with my invincible bokken.   
But he would challenge me again, and again. Acquiescing, I would lead Saionjii on for a few   
minutes, let him think it was an even match, and then claim victory in one fell swoop. Yet   
Saionjii kept trying, thinking that if he got a little faster, a little stronger, a little more   
determined, than he might possibly win. A fool from the beginning.   
  
On that one day, that turning point, everything changed. I accepted his usual challenge, held my   
bokken casually. I must not have seen the anger that was brewing beneath his skin; I paid no   
attention as we faced each other and began to spar. It was only a few days after my first   
encounter with Ohtori Akio, and the girl in the coffin was still on my mind. He had saved her,   
because he had something special that I didn't. I wanted that thing. Afterwards he had told me   
that by being the best, the most powerful, I too could have it, that special magic that had saved  
the girl. He intrigued me with his talk of power and eternity, as if they were objects one might   
grasp with one's own hands. I could see them before me like shimmering light, within vision but   
just out of reach. If I made myself the best, I would reach them.   
  
curtain   
  
tenjou utena is in the school cafeteria, eating lunch with some friends (the rose bride is not   
present). kiryuu touga approaches.   
  
"i need to talk to you." his voice is dark, angry. utena is a little frightened, but determined   
not to reveal her fear. she turns her head away.   
  
"i really don't see what we need to discuss."   
  
"that's what you would say," touga mutters. "but I'm not going to let you walk away this time.   
i have things to say, and i'll say them, by god, and you can't stop me, and--"  
  
"haven't tried" utena interrupts, idly picking at her food. then she looks up, and her dull   
expression quickly becomes an incensed glare. "i just don't see what you could possibly say to   
make up for the fact that you are nothing but a piece of filth. you couldn't care about another   
person if you even bothered to try. leave me and himemiya alone."   
  
utena turns away again, touga furious. "who are you to tell me anything? you follow her around   
like a puppet, and then you dare to presume that you know anything about me? you're just a fool,   
tenjou utena, and i am hard pressed to understand why I ever fell in love with you in the first   
place".   
  
"in...love?" she questions, looking uncomfortable but still angry. with a shake of her head she   
waves his words away. "you're just trying to trick me into losing again, but it won't work. i'm   
not going to lose himemiya."   
  
"the rose bride? that's all you care about now, with your princely airs and your noble quest;   
helping a friend...don't you see? she doesn't give a damn about anyone, and nobody should give a   
damn about her. i certainly don't. as for making you lose...i did what i had to do, to win the   
duel. you're doing the same thing, fighting your friends, going against your convictions. plenty   
of pretty speeches you've given about how ridiculous the whole thing is, but once you're up in   
the arena it seems you don't have much to say." she opens her mouth to disagree, but he speaks   
before she can. "i know, I know, it's all for himemiya's sake. you have to save himemiya." now it  
is touga that turns away in disgust. she stands abruptly, walking around to face him. she   
obviously had a whole speech prepared, but when her eyes meet his, she loses all power to speak.   
She can see that there is now scorn in his eyes, only sadness. he did not want to hurt her, he   
only wanted her to understand what she had been to blind to see, what she had cast aside for a   
false dream.   
  
"oh, touga..."   
  
"oh, eww..." wakaba throws up her lunch.  
  
curtain  
  
Even with my mind elsewhere, I was confident, and I let him advance on me while I searched for an  
opening. The sudden blow to the head left me stumbling with pain that I can still recall.   
Saionjii had never before dared to venture beyond the standard attacks. Blood dribbled down from   
my forehead, threading through my hair and tangling it into sticky red clumps.   
  
Saionjii looked scared, frightened by his own capacity for violence, but at the same time there   
was something else in the way he stood tall, imperious, as though he were the one in control of   
the situation. Saionjii didn't know anything about control. He had never truly lost anything,   
never felt so close to the bottom of humanity that he may as well not exist. He had never even   
been forced into doing something. Every defeat was his to take, because it was he that had picked  
up the bokken and begun the fight. Anything bad that had ever happened to him, he had undoubtedly  
brought upon himself. The lucky bastard.   
  
Seeing him standing there like a man who has suddenly realized he has superhuman powers made me   
sick. He thought himself better than me, when he was nothing like me; he had none of my pain.   
But I could show him. I would let him know exactly how despicable he was. I pushed the pain out   
of my mind and walked over to him, focusing on his triumphant face so that I would not stumble.  
  
"Are you okay?" Saionjii asked. He was trying to sound concerned, but he was never a good liar,   
and his shallow civility made me smile. Now I was face to face with Saionjii; close enough to   
feel his breath against my lips. I took Saionjii's chin in one hand and turned it, tracing a line  
down his jaw with one finger.   
  
"You must be pleased," I whispered into his ear. My voice was lower than usual, thicker. "This is  
exactly what you wanted, isn't it?" Saionjii tried to shake his head, but he was caught firmly in  
my grasp. Now he really was concerned; he must have thought me mad. Quite the opposite, I   
thought. I am finally beginning to see the truth. But something was not right in his reaction.   
He wasn't denying my accusation, wasn't fighting back - he was frozen, like a deer in headlights,   
terrified. I hadn't meant to be that imposing, really, I had only wanted to scare him a little.   
Maybe I had overreacted. I was opening my mouth to apologize when I realized it. He thought I was  
going to seduce him, to rape him. I was back in the cabbage field, that first night, but this   
time I was the one whose smile was reflected in horrified eyes. The roles had switched. I was no   
longer the victim. I had power, power to save or to take, whichever I wished. I was the victor.   
  
curtain   
  
"utena?" kiryuu touga stands at one end of a hallway, which is dark save the bright light   
emanating from a series of large picture windows. however, this light does not spread very far   
and the other end of the hall is cloaked in shadow.   
  
  
"utena?"   
  
there is no response.  
  
"utena?"   
  
the shadows at the end of the hall shift a bit, suggesting the form of a girl.   
footsteps echo as the shadow walks away.  
  
"i'm sorry." he says, so softly that it may not have been him at all but the shadows that  
spoke.   
  
and softer, even, like the secret whisperings of a mouse, comes the response. the   
udience leans forward in their seats, but the words sound like nothing but a soft sigh that   
soon drowns in the darkness.   
  
"oh, touga..."   
  
curtain  
  
I used to dream about you, Tenjou Utena. Did I tell you that? I would see you in your coffin, and  
I would open the lid and let you out. I would show you what eternity was to me and you would   
smile and say, "Thanks to you, I can go on". You would smile and say that and I would know that I  
had saved you.   
  
Eternity is a terrible thing, isn't it? But if it had been my eternity, it wouldn't have been the same at all.   
  
It would have been different if I had saved you. We wouldn't be caught up in these duels, you and  
I. No, we would be together and everything would be beautiful: the skies and the stars and the   
clouds and the rain. We would go out in the field together and blow wishes on the flowers, watch   
them sprinkle around into the grass like beads of light and then we would roll through them,   
letting them catch in the threads of our sweaters, a net for our dream fish. And every day would   
be a happy get up and do something morning, an adventure morning, and then at night we would curl  
up together by the fireplace like kittens and smile for everything. We wouldn't even have to talk,   
but if we did we would talk about wonderful things like bubbles and ice cream and that nice   
feeling right before you fall asleep. And if you ever cried because you lost your favorite doll,   
or the leaves had fallen off the trees, or a window broke, I would use the miracle power again to  
show you that not everything dies, that between us there could be something that would last   
forever. Something eternal. And you would smile with your eyes closed and whisper about nothing   
as you drifted away into the clouds.   
  
  
  
Author's Notes   
  
I don't own Utena, or any of the characters in it, etc.   
  
I stole an idea in this story from Ophelia, who wrote a story about Saionjii and Touga called   
"Broken Swords, Bloody Roses" that is   
absolutely amazing, and I suggest you go read it right now.   
like to read a really great fanfic I sugggest you.   
  
This story bothered my for months before I finally wrote it, and it didn't turn out at all the  
way I expected it to. I hope it doesn't fall too far into standard Touga cliches.   
The problem is that I myself don't understand exactly how Touga became the asshole he is,   
but this is my best guess. Please comment as I'm really interested to know what people think   
(especially as this is the first full length story I've posted).   
  
  
  



End file.
